Kilty's Night Out
by Bezo and Yezo
Summary: Join young Kilty McBagpipes as he systematically strikes out with each and every one of the Read or Die gals. In one night! Now, that's talent! Hints of NeneneMaggie, JokerWendy, DrakeMichelle, and NancyYomikoNancy.


Kilty's Night Out

* * *

Summary: Join young Kilty McBagpipes as he systematically strikes out with each and every one of the Read or Die gals. In one night! Now, that's talent! Hints of Nenene/Maggie, Joker/Wendy, Drake/Michelle, and Nancy/Yomiko/Nancy.

* * *

It was a warm, balmy Friday evening late in spring. The sun had just gone down, the stars were out, and an atmosphere of hope was apparent to all. 

Particularly, to the last person who should have had any. Hope, that is.

Young Mr. Kilty McBagpipes, an unfortunately named Scot, surveyed the smoky, crowded room with an expression of giddy, vaguely intoxicated delight.

"Ach!" he proclaimed proudly to his beer as his gaze jumped from girl to girl. "There's some good pickings right tonight! I can hardly wait to sink me teeth into a couple of 'em! Metaphorically, of course," he hastened to explain to the beverage which seemed to be looking at him reproachfully. "Unless thing go well, of course! Eh? Eh? Ain't that right, beer?"

The beer said nothing.

"Ach, who needs ye?" he muttered, glaring at the unresponsive glass.

He stood unsteadily.

"Right! Time to go to work!"

* * *

"Oh, no," Maggie Mui murmured, horrified, trying very hard not to make eye contact with the approaching man beaming at her. "He's coming over here. I should have just made this banana daiquiri at home…it probably would have been better…" 

"Well, hello, missy!" the redheaded man greeted cheerfully, plunking down in the seat next to her. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing by herself on a lovely night like tonight?"

At this point, Maggie started to blush, giving him entirely the wrong idea. He grinned.

"So, do you mind if I sit down?"

"You…you're already sitting," Maggie pointed out hesitantly.

"So I am! You're observational; I like that!"

"I think you mean 'observant,'" she said, inching her chair away from his.

"Now, now, there's no need to get all grammatacious at me," he chuckled. "We've only just met. So, you haven't answered my question. Beautiful girl, all alone…come to peruse the meat market, have ye?"

"Not really," Maggie replied, looking vaguely revolted.

"Oh! Lookin' for a man of substance! I like that! I'll have you know, I am extremely well-read."

Maggie looked up, surprised.

"Really?"

"Oh, sure, sure! Charles Dickinson, William Shakeystick, that Lord of the Rings chap…Peter Jack…smith. Oh, I love his books! They're great. With the wee hobbits, and the 'I'm gonna get yer ring, Mr. Anderson!' Classic literature."

She suppressed a tiny sigh.

"Yeah."

"But enough about me," he said, draping one arm over the back of her chair and nearly toppling off his own as suddenly, hers wasn't there anymore, being instead on the other side of the table. "Let's talk about you. Because if there's one thing I am – besides well-read…and a man of substance...So, if there's three things I am, it's those two, and a listener."

"Okay," Maggie said, sipping her drink again.

Minutes passed.

"Ye can start any time, ye know," Kilty pointed out politely. "There's no word limit."

"Okay," Maggie said again.

Minutes passed. Again.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked nervously. "Ye don't have an invisible date, and I'm making things really awkward, am I? I'm not sitting in his lap, am I?"

"No," Maggie replied simply.

"Alright," he said, pushing off from the table. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't got a lot of time, and there're a lot of girls here, so if it's alright with you, I'm gonna go now."

"Okay," Maggie said, more enthusiastically than she'd been throughout this conversation.

"But I'll leave ye with my number. I'm currently between jobs, so I'm pretty much gonna be home. But if I answer the phone as Smith & Co. Industries Heavy Manufacturing Concern, that's just because I have some resumes out, and I don't currently have _real_ references – you know how it is."

"Yeah."

"But that's me, so…lookin' forward to it."

He gave her one more engaging smile, and the universal sign for 'call me', and with that, was gone.

"What a catch," Maggie muttered, watching him briefly before returning to her drink.

* * *

"Oh, my God! She's absolutely beautiful!" Kilty gasped as his gaze lit on a girl at a table not far away. "She's got a body I would kill a man for! And possibly a small child! I'd club baby seals with my beer here for just one look at her glorious silken curvations! And that hair! Every man loves a blonde…at least once," he concluded with a grin. 

He shook his head.

"Right, that's enough stalling; I'd better go talk to her now." He cracked his neck and stretched his arms. "C'mon, Kilty, you can do this. Sure, she's more beautiful than any woman ye've ever seen before, and yer probably going to trip over yer tongue as soon as ye open yer mouth, but she's right there, and yer right here, and…bloody go for it, ye bastard! Go, man! Go!"

With this pep-talk, he started over to the girl.

* * *

"Well, hello, missy!" he greeted cheerfully amid many nervous vocal cracks. He cleared his throat to try to assert his manhood. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing by herself on a lovely night like tonight?" 

Michelle looked thoughtful.

"Well, I think it was because I really wanted a good margarita, but I'm not very good at mixing them myself, so I thought I'd leave it to the professionals. My sister's really good at mixing drinks, but for some reason, she wasn't home tonight. So, I came down to the bar, and the people here were more than happy to make me this delicious drink! Wouldn't that be a fun job, just standing around, mixing drinks all day? It wouldn't be a very good job for me, because I'm not very good at making drinks – did I say that already?"

Kilty was glad to slip into his more traditional role of staring blankly, and every now and again adding to the conversation with a simple "uh-huh" and nod. Now he was in his stride!

"Uh-huh," he said, nodding.

"And I kind of like this atmosphere for reading, too. It's nice to have some background noise to block out. It was really quiet at home tonight, because everyone was out, and I couldn't turn on the television, because I'm not allowed to touch it anymore. Last time, I broke it with a paper airplane."

"Really," Kilty said for variety.

"Yes! Our hostess wasn't happy about that. She also didn't seem to like it much when I put on a slinky dress and danced for her."

"You have my full attention," Kilty said, wiping away a thin trail of drool with a cocktail napkin.

Michelle beamed a little unsteadily, the side-effect of that lovely drink that the bartender had so kindly mixed up for her.

"You're such a great listener! So, where was I? Oh, right! I was dressed up in my sexy dress. I like dress-up! I've got a Chinese dress, a schoolgirl outfit, a maid outfit – I can make my clothes out of paper!"

"Really! And how do you feel about walking in the rain?" Kilty asked eagerly.

Michelle giggled.

"Well, even if all my paper clothes melted off, I would always have my black spandex. It's great! Do you want to see it?"

"You have no idea how much," Kilty said reverently.

"Okay!" Michelle chirped, standing up and throwing off her sweater.

Kilty's eyes grew wide and starry.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Sis," a voice proclaimed quietly from behind the blonde.

"You?" Kilty exclaimed as his gaze lit on Maggie. _I should've learned her name…_

"What's going on, Maggie?" Michelle asked cheerfully, turning to the taller girl.

"I think you should keep your clothes on," Maggie replied gently.

"Oh, it's okay," Michelle laughed. "It's just this guy!"

"No, it's really not okay," Maggie insisted.

"Yes, it is!" Kilty argued. "I heartily endorse it! I have no objections whatsoever!"

Maggie glared at him.

"Leave my sister alone, please."

"Hold on!" Kilty exclaimed as something dawned on him at last. "Sisters? You two're sisters?"

"Well, we're not real sisters," Michelle replied. "We're _adopted_ sisters! But not in the traditional sense. We sort of adopted each other, you know, without going through the whole legal process. It all began one Christmas night, when Maggie and I went to this church and found our youngest sister, Anita, all alone, and we adopted her, too. But as it turned out, that didn't really happen, because it was just an evil library that gave us false memories, but it really _did_ happen after all, and the man in charge of the library was just lying to try to make us sad, so yay!"

Kilty stared, bewildered.

"Okay, then. Well, I hadn't banked on a crazy girl, so I think I'll just go. As hot as you are, and oh God, you're so hot!" He sighed, nearly weeping. "Why do the hot ones have to be crazy? It's not fair!"

"It's okay," Michelle said, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "Do you need a hug?"

Kilty whimpered.

"What I wouldn't give for a hug…"

Maggie shook her head warningly.

"But, I have to be going now," he continued. He turned to look at Maggie. "Call me?"

"Hope springs eternal," Maggie noted, shaking her head.

Michelle beamed after him.

"What a nice guy!"

* * *

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Kilty was meanwhile murmuring, eyes trained on his next attempt. "You are hot, and you make me want to sweat." He shook his head. "That's rubbish." 

He thought very carefully.

"A rose by any other name…would be called something else." He rubbed his eyes. "Must be drunker than I thought." He shrugged. "Oh, well. Got just the thing for that: beer."

He took a long gulp.

"Okay: we failed with the quiet one, and we failed with the…not-so-quiet one. Still confident. Still confident. I can get any woman in this room! Look at her, in her little business suit. I'll bet she's some powerful executive. Doesn't answer to anyone. Looks like she's her own boss. She needs a man to tame her. And I'm a man! So, go me!"

He thought for a moment.

"Wait, have I got a love poem yet?"

He shrugged.

"Ah, I'll just wing it – say it's free-verse."

* * *

Wendy looked up at the redheaded towering man grinning down at her. 

"Yes?" she prompted impatiently.

"I saw you from across the room, and I was inspired by your beauty. So, I wrote a sonnet in your honour. I've forgotten most of it," he admitted, "but I think I can sum up the gist of it in the following way: 'You're cute. Do me. Right here.' So, it's not that poetic, but it's from the heart. Or somewhere around there. And it's the thought that counts, right? That's what I always heard."

"Let me guess: you're here to pick up women."

"Well, not _just_ women! I'm looking for a very special woman, who will complete me as a person, and…oh, what's that other Jerry McGuire crap that chicks love? And…and show me the money!"

"Oh, wow; you're _really_ bad at this," Wendy noted, before smiling a very forced smile. "Look, I'm sure you're a perfectly nice…fellow – and you certainly put some of the men out there into perspective – but I'm actually here, at this drinking establishment, to drink. And not to be accosted by various strangers looking for 'a good time'. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go over there now."

"Great! We can talk over there!" Kilty said happily.

"No, no, you misunderstand. _I_ am going over there. _You_ are staying here. If you go over there, I will not. And neither will you, on account of being dead. And there's only one place you'll go after that, I expect. Good day," she finished quite cheerfully.

Kilty pouted, glowering after her.

"Must be a lesbian."

* * *

"So, how _did _you survive, anyway?" Nancy II asked. 

Nancy I sipped at her drink and shrugged.

"I can phase through things?" she reminded her sister impatiently. "Like rockets? And the earth? And everything else that got in my way? Just like _you_ can?"

Nancy II blinked.

"Yeah, but I thought the whole point was that you were _sacrificing _yourself!"

Nancy I smirked.

"I had a few minutes to think about, and about just how stupid it was. And did you really think I was going to let _you_ have Yomiko?"

At this, Yomiko's eyes flitted up from her book for a microsecond, then back down. She flipped the page.

"Yeah, we can share her," Nancy II said with a fond smile.

"You mean, _I_ can share her," Nancy I corrected tersely.

"_We_ can share her!"

"_I_ can share her!"

"_We_ can share her!"

"Mind if I play tie-breaker?" a new voice asked jovially. "We could mud-wrestle!"

Nancy I turned, very slowly, and glared scathingly at the redheaded man.

"Who are you?"

"Just a friendly arbiter, come to offer services in return for a conversation," Kilty replied with wink and a half-bow.

"Yeah, well, don't," Nancy I suggested.

"This is _our_ Yomiko," Nancy II added, clinging to Yomiko's completely unresponsive arm.

"_My_ Yomiko," Nancy I corrected, by now very annoyed.

"Well! I can see my services _are_ actually required," Kilty noted, grinning cheesily.

"What do you want?" Nancy I asked impatiently.

"I think he wants a conversation," Nancy II reminded her aside. "That's what he said."

Nancy I rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Oh, look, lovely weather, isn't it hotter than it has been previously, or perhaps colder? It's a funny old thing, life, now go."

Kilty frowned.

"You see, that doesn't really count as conversation. Conversation usually involves…two people."

"So, you mean, kind of like what we were having _before_ you came," Nancy I paraphrased.

"No, that was an argument," Kilty corrected. "Conversations are usually more congenial."

"Well, sorry Mr. Book-Learnin'," Nancy I said sarcastically. "Maybe it's because we find an argument with each other preferable to a conversation with you."

Kilty frowned. Yomiko continued to read her book. Nancy II continued to read it over her shoulder.

"You haven't exactly given me a chance, have you?"

"Should we?" Nancy I asked

"Yes! So, tell me: which one's the evil twin here?" he asked, grinning. "Is it the one with the glasses?"

Nancy I stared at him in disbelief. Then…

"Move over," she commanded, scooting her chair over closer to Yomiko's on the side that Nancy II was not occupying.

Kilty watched the three reading – the same book – in silence for a long moment.

"Uh, right, then."

Yomiko flipped a page, basking in the glow of being all warm and cosy between her two Nancies.

"I'll just be off."

Flip.

"It was nice meeting you."

Flip.

"Right," Kilty said awkwardly. "Uh, goodbye."

Flip.

* * *

"Okay, that was a bit discouraging," Kilty murmured to himself as he hurried away, carefully avoiding Maggie's glare as he passed her and Michelle's table. "As is that. And I was doing so well! I mean, the whole 'friendly mediator come to offer his services' bit – I thought that was good." 

He sighed as he passed an exceedingly old man in a purple leisure suit and several heavy gold chains, including one sporting a 'Big G' medallion. One girl was perched on either arm of his wheelchair.

"Mr. Gentleman…he's the master," Kilty said admiringly, but wistfully. "How does he do it? Maybe I need to get a big cane…no, I can't be stealing another man's gimmick. I have my pride…if nothing else."

His eyes slid over to a table nestled in the corner, where a young woman in sweatpants and a green jacket sat, a line of empty shot glasses stretching across the table, two laptops open in front of her.

"Alright, last one. I've been puttin' her off – she doesn't really stand out, with the sweatpants. But now that I look at her, and this may be desperation talking, she's got a hell of a little body on her! If she lost the glasses, and did something with her hair, she'd be…yeah," he concluded, grinning and nodding. "Well, here I go."

* * *

"Whaddaya mean, it's no good?" Nenene was meanwhile slurring into her cell phone. "It's the true life adventures of what just happened to me for the last six months, you idiot!" A pause. Nenene glared. "It is NOT too far-fetched!" Another pause. "I bet you didn't even read it, you bad editor!" 

With that, she vehemently switched off her phone and returned her attention to her laptops.

"Alright," she murmured. "Chapter Twenty-Three on the right, and Chapter Four on the left."

"I'm scared," Kilty was meanwhile whimpering from several feet away. "But she's the last one! If I don't get her, I'm a complete failure!"

He once again pointedly ignored the redoubled vicious glare he was receiving from Maggie.

"I wonder if that means she'd going to call me," he reflected absently, glancing at her on his way over to Nenene.

As he came to a stop in front of her, he tipped an imaginary hat.

"Greetings and good day to you," he said with a grin and a wink.

Nenene looked up briefly.

"What? Oh, uh, more of the same," she said, indicating the row of empty shot glasses.

"Hey, does that mean you want me to buy you a drink?"

Nenene stopped and looked up.

"No, just bring me one."

Then, as something sank in, her face fell.

"Oh, you're not the waiter. What do you want?"

"Well, you seem so lonely here, with your computer machines," Kilty replied, pulling out a chair next to her.

Nenene raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe, if by 'lonely' you mean 'busy'."

"I thought you were drunk," Kilty said, much disappointed as his chances seemed to slip away.

"Are you kidding?" she laughed. "I need more than _that_ to get me drunk. It's just an act I put on. Gives me an excuse to yell at my editor. Let me tell you, great tension relief. Now, what do you want?"

"Oh, you're a writer!" he said delightedly. He puffed up his chest. "Well. Why don't you write a book about me? The handsome Scottish hero."

Nenene smirked.

"Yeah, I guess you kind of look like Braveheart in the right light. You know, you're half blue and you wear a dress. And besides, I think there's already a book out there called 'Jackass'."

"Oh, come on!" Kilty whined. "Isn't anyone going to give me a bloody chance tonight?"

"Fine," Nenene sighed. "Have a seat."

Kilty looked wary.

"Really?"

"Don't push it," she warned. "Just…tell me a story, or something. I'm always looking for more inane crap to put in these things. There was a time when I thought Yomiko read my work because they're good. But then I learned, Yomiko will read a menu. Yomiko will read the dictionary. Yomiko will read Tom Clancy if she's really desperate. Yomiko will read anything. Words on paper are what she likes. I think she just likes the paper, and the words are a nice excuse to linger."

"Aw, geez, another crazy girl?" Kilty sighed.

Nenene glared at him sternly.

"Look, are you going to tell me a story, or am I going to kick your ass? My pity only runs so deep."

"Right!" Kilty said. "Um…uh…hey, I'm Scottish! Uh…kilts…no, no, that's no good. Haggis? Tasty, but no. Cabers? No. Capers? No. Bagpipes! That's it," he proclaimed triumphantly. "Have ye ever listened to the bagpipes? Fascinating instrument. Sounds bloody awful. I mean, there are instruments that sound awful when you're first learning them. The violin is a great example of an instrument that, when ye hear someone learning it, ye just want to rip out yer ears. But eventually, after years of practice, hard work, dedication to honing their art, they get really good, and it no longer sounds like a dying cat. Not so, with the bagpipes. Centuries and centuries of work have been put into making the bagpipes sound good, and they never get any better. Yet, there is a certain charm to the sound of the bagpipes, one that can eventually grow on you. Even if it doesn't sound good to anyone else. You know," he continued, "my family invented the bagpipes, way back in the third century B.C. in Scotland. 'Course, back then, it was called Ugland or something. And they used them to scare animals out of trees. My family's lineage goes all the way back to the very origins of bagpipes. And that's where we got our name."

Nenene eyed him over the tops of her glasses.

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

"Kilty. McBagpipes."

Nenene snorted with laughter.

"Oh, come on! That's the _best_ you can come up with!"

Kilty scowled, stung to the very core.

"It is a proud and honourable Scottish name! I'll have you know, the very kings of Ugland were McBagpipeses! Long before those blasted McPhersons and McAllisters and McLeans and McDonalds took over with their fancy dress codes. 'Ooh, look at my tartan!'"

"Okay, that's enough," Nenene interrupted.

"I was just getting to the best part," Kilty protested. "Where the McBagpipeses tartan came from!"

"That's okay," Nenene said dryly. "I only needed one really long, boring, pointless story."

"I do not need this!" Kilty suddenly proclaimed, bolting from his chair. "I thought it was Ladies' Night, not Crazys' Night! I'm off!"

"Oh, my heart, it aches," Nenene said flatly. "Barkeep! More of the same!"

* * *

"What a night," Kilty lamented to the man seated next to him at the bar. "It's impossible to pick up a girl in this place!" 

"Really," Drake said indifferently. "Did I say something that sounded like 'tell me about your day'? Because I didn't mean to."

"This one girl especially! She was so hot, and she was so into me! But her _friend_ came along and screwed everything up! Her _sister_. She was going to show me her black spandex!"

This got Drake's attention. His eyes narrowed.

"Blonde girl?"

"Blondest girl I ever saw," Kilty said wistfully.

"Long hair?"

"Right down to that sweet, sweet bottom of hers."

"Long blonde hair, sweet ass – I refuse to say bottom, on account of my American pride – sounds like Michelle."

"Was that her name?" Kilty asked, interested.

"Yeah."

"And how do you know her?"

The force of Drake's glare nearly burned twin holes in Kilty's forehead.

"She's my girl."

"Oh," Kilty said. An awkward silence followed. "Well, it wasn't really her – it was more her sister. Maggie, or something."

"Tall girl? Dark hair?" a voice from behind him asked suspiciously.

He turned to the last of his failed attempts.

"Yeah, that's her."

"She's _my_ girl," the brunette said menacingly. "Rrr."

Kilty grinned.

"Really. Have you ever thought about…sharing?"

"No," Nenene said, grinning a grin that resembled more a shark baring its massive, deadly teeth.

"Okay," Kilty agreed nervously. "Just a thought. I won't bother you again. Besides," he continued, nudging Drake, "there was this _other_ girl. Short blonde hair, business suit – there's just something about that, turns my crank, you know?"

"Mine, too," another voice replied pleasantly from on the other side of Drake.

"Why do I've got a bad feeling about this?" Kilty wondered ungrammatically before leaning back to see who _this _one was.

"Lovely girl, though, isn't she?" the blond man in the green blazer said. "Such a hard worker. Don't know what I'd do without her. Everything, presumably. Suppose I'd have to. Incidentally, she's, ah, not available. You'll want to recall that, I think, if you enjoy having a home country to return to."

"Aw, come on!" Kilty exclaimed, now well and truly annoyed with the abuse he had sustained all evening. "Ye'd rub out Scotland, just because I hit on yer woman!"

"I don't think it would take that much, really," Joker said thoughtfully. "I've never been terribly fond of you people."

"This is _not_ my lucky day," Kilty lamented.

Drake raised his head and glared.

"Excuse me?"

* * *

End Notes: Whee! That was fun! Hopefully you thought so too. Let us know either way, eh:) 


End file.
